


Entry

by GolddenEyes, TTMIYH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: SBURB Fan Session, fansession
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GolddenEyes/pseuds/GolddenEyes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/pseuds/TTMIYH
Summary: VengefulBirddog: OK ENOUGH FUCKING AROUND! This is of the utmost fucking importance. We have literally one shot to get this right.DiracBestiary: Ahem, VB, are you okay?HourglassDistance: You’re getting awfully worked up over a video game. An MMO at that.BravadoDenied: now that’s the kinda attitude I like seeing, time to fuck shit up ey?VandalHeart: This is getting more and more worrying. It feels like your leaving things out!DeductiveVanguard: What’s this game even about, anyways?Playtest home-brewing the O.R.E. tabletop system to fit into homestuck. This is the log from our first session. Updates every day.





	1. Character Introduction: zombifiedZealotry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally GameMastered by: CPA#5256
> 
> Characters Played By:  
> GolddenEyes  
> JC  
> PhiBlue  
> Revlar  
> US  
> And one player who wishes to remain anonymous
> 
> Transcribed and Editied by: TTMIYH and GolddenEyes

It's not the most flattering image, but it will do.

So, for those of you who may not be aware, which was, until now, everyone, I am a Cherub. We're not supposed to play Sburb, but me and my sister found a way anyway. Unlike some of the narrative constructs summoned into your world, I did not kill her, because I'm not an asshole. There is a very long story that one of your Earth authors has written about it but I don't really give a shit about him. Hmm hmm hmm.

It'll make sense in a moment. Consider this a crossing of the threshold between OOC and IC, so to speak.  
When you're in a Session that is supposed to be dead you have little to do but browse trans-dimensional internets.  
And I have a very powerful computer. Powerful enough that I can simulate veritable universes in it.  
So, I'll avoid my tendency to ramble onwards and try to give you the too long: didn't read.  
I'm using all twelve of you. Six from one universe, six from another.  
(I'm talking to two groups of people at once, apologies)  
You will be setting up "initial conditions", so to speak, and I will allow you to control your marionettes within our simulation.  
If my computer is as powerful as I think it is, which it is, this will allow us to simulate a viable Sburb session within its coding confines.

Correct, [DYEVET'S PLAYER]  
You will be cooperating with a team of Trolls from another universe over.  
Of course. I have a predilection that could be charitably described as the "Autistic".

Anyway.  
So, this is the plan.  
I will use your characters, all twelve of them, to simulate an actual Sburb session inside my computer for you. I don't believe either of the two universes are ones predisposed towards spawning the frog ruins necessary for Sburbian recreation.  
Or, more simply, Sburb doesn't exist in either of your two universes.  
But it does in mine.  
So, if I can wrangle out a successful universe frog from this somewhat confusing clusterfuck, my hypothesis is that I would be able to simply copy the genetic code wholesale and use my own ectobiology equipment to take the frog out from the simulation and into my universe.  
My computer is very powerful.

[DYEVET'S PLAYER] asks: "Why employ us at all, then?", and the answer is because I am both immortal and very bored.  
If it doesn't work, there are dozens more universes I can repeat this experiment with.  
But we'll consider it just a fun game for now.  
I believe your DM may not have planned for this kind of interruption.  
For the trolls, I am talking about the human DM.  
Amusingly, you've both come up with similar role playing systems at the same time, if it means anything across universal barriers.  
Sets of 10 sided die.  
The probabilities amuse.  
[DYEVET'S PLAYER] asks "To what I may be referred to.". If you'd like to in full, you may call me Calderon. I am a Lord of Light.  
My sister will probably not be participating. She is far too busy, but she is a Muse of Void, if you were at all curious. I am not telling you her name because I really don't want to be interrupted mid-game.

Anyway, for now, the humans will be creating a fandom for their characters to inhabit, and I believe the trolls may adopt the idea as well.  
I will be using that to also set the initial conditions for our universe, which I have advanced to a roughly synchronous time between the Human players and the Troll players.  
Circumstantial simultaneity is kind of a bitch to grasp, if you will excuse my language.

If it's a little too much, the easiest assumption is that an NPC from inside CPA's game (on the Human side) and quixoticInvestigator's game (on the Troll side) has emerged from inside the game's narrative and taken control.

I hope we didn't have anyone here sleeping through my lecture. I worked hard on that :(


	2. Game Review: Dragon's Oblivion: Decisive (March 2016)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, Goldden here, with an update that's a day early! Last chapter, ZZ said that we humans were going to create a fandom to interact in. Together, the six of us created a fictional video game franchise, and this is a review of the eighth and final game. Sprinkled throughout the fic, will be forum posts made by the players on this game's forum page, which has some real gems. Hope you enjoy, there's more on the way!

This is it, boys and girls - the final (and I do think, for real, final) chapter of the once-illustrious "Dragon's" series, now slowly ground into the mud by auteur game director and overall shadowy, Dr. Moreau-like figure Sato Rei. As a swan song to once one of the most beloved, and hotly debated, JRPG series this side of Final Fantasy, Dragon's Oblivion: Decisive is, at its best, a glitchy, non-functioning mess, and at its worse a cavalcade of confusing choices, a dismal display of draconic desperation gone wrong, and shows why exactly Konami might have been right to let go Hideo Kojima.

 

Graphically, the game is beautiful, when I can see it. The Dragon's series has always been known for its stunning artwork, gorgeous character designs, and intricate, detailed graphics and spritework, even at the expense of gameplay or story coherence. On the rare occasion where the game avoids stuttering itself to death like a death row inmate fried mid-sentence, I can see the glimpse of an amazing game in there, even in the mysterious hooded protagonist, quickly dubbed by the fandom "UP" (or Unknown Protagonist). In the back half of the game, the graphical complexity only intensifies into storybook-like vistas that could only be matched by a movie-grade CGI team working six years on a blank check, but that's all marred by a, frankly, impressive amount of graphical glitches and errors like flagrantly missing textures, broken backface culling, and characters blipping in and out of existence. Still, what I can see is pretty.  
**Graphics: 3/5**

 

Sound-wise, I have to commend the voice actors for working with such an actively malevolent script, and the emotion put behind some of the most shocking sentences likely heard in a video game not rated AO is honestly commendable. However, half the sound score is the music and sound effects of the game, and, well, it's just not there. The majority of the game is blanketed in pure silence, and the sound effects used probably got scrambled in a frying pan and then passed through an electromagnet before they got shoved into the game. The mixing and mastering behind the game is also whack as hell, as the kids put it, with sound effects randomly seeming to change in volume for no reason, music either completely out-louding vocals or being so faint that it might as well not be there, and voice actors that sound like they were recorded in a cathedral. Knowing Sato Rei, they might've been.  
**Sound: 3/5**

 

There's really nothing positive that can be said about the gameplay of Dragon's Oblivion: Decisive. Literally nothing. While the button-mashing hack and slash gameplay and sheer amount of bloodshed might've been impressive for an ARPG in the late 90s, video games as a medium have advanced so much further since then. All the nuance to combat has been removed and the series's beloved breeding mechanics have been stricken entirely for a boring, complicated, grindy affair. There aren't even skill trees!

Did I mention that the control scheme changes at least once, halfway through the first ending's route?  
**Gameplay: 1/5**

 

While I'm sure on an analytical level, Dragon's Oblivion: Decisive means something to the fans and scholars of the lore-heavy series, as a non-fan, this game is gobbeldygook. Questlines that end abruptly, sometimes with the NPC disappearing forever when I'm out hunting down their murder target of choice, sentences that seem pulled out of a Markov chain outside of cutscenes (and even then, sometimes in cutscenes), and a quest that boils down to, as far as I'm aware, "murder everything good in the world and recruit a bunch of amoral psychopaths to be your party members.". Guys. Hatred already pulled this off, in a funnier and less soul-crushing way than you did, six months ago. Please.  
**Story: 1/5**

 

If there's one good thing that can be said about this game, is that I could probably theoretically play it for hours. But not necessarily in a good way. The reason I mention the controls switching at least once is that I only managed to push myself through the first of what was apparently four (!!!) endings. Currently, the All Endings Speedrun for this game clocks in at an astounding 30-some hours. The speedrun, guys. Cursory YouTube checks and tips from my co-workers imply that the story of the game as a whole apparently changes dramatically from run to run, but never in a way that becomes sensical. So, it gets four out of five stars on replayability, but more or less on a technicality. If you're going for All Endings, I'm told to expect at least 100 hours of grindy, grindy nonsense if you're not a speedrunner.  
**Replayability: 4/5**

 

The je ne ses quoi and overall score are going to be rolled into one here, because I think they're both pretty broadly applicable to each other. Will Dragon's Oblivion: Decisive go down in history? Probably, and maybe it'll even go down in history the way Sato Rei wanted, but I don't think either of those are good things. There's a certain fascination factor with seeing just how dark the ""story"" can get, how bad your next party member will be, and how much incoherent slaughter you can force yourself through if you try hard enough.

But it's watching a car crash kind of fascination, not, oh this is fun fascination. Maybe that's your thing! I certainly can't speak for all of us.  
**Je ne ses quoi: 2/5**

**Overall: 2/5**


	3. Chapter One: Moonset

[ https://youtu.be/FwvwkNzfYwE ](https://youtu.be/FwvwkNzfYwE)

 

A solemn composer plays his tune, wind whistling through the streets. For some, the sun shines heavy on a bleary day, and for others, it rises, or sets, on an anonymous horizon. Six teenagers have received today download codes for an intriguing new game, spurred on by a normally reticent friend, ready to digitally download through the similarly mysterious skaianet.org

By some twist of fate, luck, or circumstance, the six, despite all living in different geographic locales, have been circumstantially synchronized to the point that today, Friday, January 4th, 2019, is the last day of everyone's winter break before a return to normalcy, the grinding away of brain material by gears of schoolfeeding, incessant nagging, and preparations for college, and adulthood beyond that.

A communal message opened amongst a defunct forum's final chatbox, embedded within HTML code. Six (more or less) users, all preparing to play a game, ho ho. While normally, we would be taking the time to painstakingly observe, notate, and introduce ourselves to every character's little inane quirks, features, typing styles, and interests, we are all well acquainted with the typical rules of play at this point. Supplementary information is, of course, within the appendices.

 

**VandalHeart** : Chat should be up and running!

 

But in their Bedrooms, they lurk, Guardians, grinding away and doing their semi-inscrutable, guardianly duties.

 

**BravadoDenied** : What’s up, madlads?

 

Somewhere across the night sky, a meteor streaks by, a shooting star. An omen, perhaps, for good or for ill.

 

**DeductiveVanguard** : Hello.

**HourglassDistance** : I’m so excited!!

**DiracBestiary** : Hello, Everyone

**VengefulBirddog** : OK ENOUGH FUCKING AROUND! This is of the utmost fucking importance. We have literally one shot to get this right.

**DiracBestiary** : Ahem, VB, are you okay?

**HourglassDistance** : You’re getting awfully worked up over a video game. An MMO at that.

**BravadoDenied** : now that’s the kinda attitude I like seeing, time to fuck shit up ey?

**VandalHeart** : This is getting more and more worrying. It feels like your leaving things out!

**DeductiveVanguard** : What’s this game even about, anyways?

 

The skaianet.org website is plain and ill-distinguished, for those looking its way. Simple HTML. The code, if someone bothers to stare its way, is nothing more than text and a standard anchor tag.

 

<a href="i.cdn.skaianet.org/attachments/sburb0_06_client.exe">Click here to download the SBURB Pre-Beta Client! (Right Click -> Save As)</a>

 

<a href="i.cdn.skaianet.org/attachments/sburb0_06_server.exe">Click here to download the SBURB Pre-Beta Server! (Right Click -> Save As)</a>

 

Nothing more, nothing less. There are no mysteries to be uncovered in VB's strange link.

 

**DiracBestiary** : You've been acting much more oddly than usual. As much as I enjoy a good sleuthery, I would rather my allies be honest with me. Also, my virus scan turned up clean, so the client and server are safe to download.

 

Green text, on a black background. Blue links.

 

**BravadoDenied** : oh fuck me, were we checking for viruses? I downloaded this shit onto one of my spare rigs

**DeductiveVanguard** : I would say it's more accurate to say you like making a mystery out of chaos than a good sleuthery, DB.   
**VengefulBirddog** : Good, BD.  Have it downloaded on as many computers as you have.   
**VengefulBirddog** : Shit can. And most likely will get messy.   
**DiracBestiary** : No worries. I checked for us.   
**DiracBestiary** : Also, is it absolutely necessary that DV play with us? I fear that any puzzles without the solutions prominently displayed in the same room will immediately shortcircuit their brain, and we'll be charged for manslaughter.   
**DiracBestiary** : Opening the files both up now.   
**BravadoDenied** : Every computer...? Aight fam, you say so, goin afk to do that now, be back right quick like   
**VengefulBirddog** : YES! IT IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NECESSARY! And don't you dare take too long BD.   
**BravadoDenied** : That emoji thing

 

As DiracBestiary opens the files, he's greeted with an error message. Apparently, only one of the executables wanted to be opened at a time, and as the first one downloaded, the client executable opens into a terminal window, pure command line, with a jaunty tune playing from a small, in-built MP3 player.

 

[ https://youtu.be/YkT-wBrmBR8 ](https://youtu.be/YkT-wBrmBR8)

 

AWAITING INPUT FROM SERVER PLAYER..._

 

In his bedroom, VengefulBirddog’s doorknob is suddenly accosted by a sickly sweet rapacious rapping rat-a-tat-tat-tat, accosted by an oncoming AUNTIE.

 

**VandalHeart** : Are you running the server? Does this use a PeerToPeer connection? 

 

Something about lunchtime.

And grilled cheeses.

 

 **VengefulBirddog** : Good DB is up first. I took the liberty of making a handy little guide of our entry order.   
Just so everyone knows whats up  
DB  
BD  
HD  
VB  
VH  
DV

 

AUNTIE's knocking becomes somewhat insistent, for a moment, before her footsteps softly shuffle away. 

The shadow of a plate left underneath the door

 

**VandalHeart** : I don’t understand what that means.

 

DiracBestiary leans back on their gamer chair as they examine the client executable. 

 

**DiracBestiary** : It looks like you're supposed to open the client first, but it claims to be asking for input from a server player.   
**VengefulBirddog** : DB please give them the run down on what you can find. I need to go handle something.   
**VengefulBirddog** : I'm counting on you.

 

The only notable thing in the client terminal is a small, elegantly made but still kind of weird looking ASCII spirograph, slowly shifting and rotating.

 

**DiracBestiary** : Hang on, what's this about a specific order? What does this determine?   
**DiracBestiary** : Hm. VH, would you mind opening the server executable? I want to see something.

 

VengefulBirddog equips the Trusty Staff, and moves towards the door. He can spare a few seconds to eat without things falling apart....right?

VandalHeart gingerly runs the  _ server.exe _ executable, hoping her computer isn't about to go up in flames in the name of bitcoin.

When the door opens, there is naught an AUNTIE in sight, merely a diagonally cut, edges-trimmed grilled cheese, and a small tomato soup from a convenience store, in a thick papery cup, along with a baggie of goldfish. The cheese-based snack, not the living creature. Goldfish™.

As VandalHeart’s's file begins to load, a small ASCII progress bar appears on her computer. Slow going. There are streaks in the morning sky.

Wonderful. VengefulBirddog, ever the polite young man, bellows out a booming "Thank YOU". He shuts his door and proceeds to eat as fast as possible.

In the distance from VandalHeart's hotel, a loud  _ BANG _ echoes throughout the air, like a gunshot.

But far, far larger in magnitude.

 

**VandalHeart** : It's loading, but I heard a noise. I'll be right back!   
**DiracBestiary** : The exe shouldn't cause any known to your computer. If it does I apologize in advance.   
**DiracBestiary** : Er, take your time! Be safe.   
**HourglassDistance** : Keep us updated, Heart!

**BravadoDenied** : There we go, got all eight of these fuckers running win 8 so I had to fight through that update bullshit, but here I am. what'd I miss?

 

VandalHeart walks over to the sliding door to the balcony and looks around. Was there an accident? The balcony extends to the left of her. There are sliding glass doors to the shared living room and to the other room of the suite: Her sibling's.

There's nothing visible in the immediate distance, but in the horizon, a red and orange and yellow light, plumes of smoke - the telltale signs of a fire. The bright blue morning sky is traced in silhouette by tiny streaks.

It's not like the West Coast of the United States of America has any particularly large history of massive fires, though, so there's nothing really to worry about.

 

**DeductiveVanguard** : Sorry, I was tabbed out. DB, put the condescension in your pocket. Nobody asked for it.

 

VengefulBirddog finishes his food. Another so-so meal from his Auntie. At least she's trying, for once. He walks back to the computer.

 

**VengefulBirddog** : Ok folks, How are things rolling. Ya'll got the game going yet?   
**DeductiveVanguard** : Seems like I'm last, so, chill.   
**DiracBestiary** : Just waiting for VH to return. The loading is slow.

VandalHeart gets back to her computer, a tad disturbed. She'll be checking the news soon, to see what that's all about.

The little cursor on the  awaiting server player message blips on DB's screen, back and forth.

 

**DiracBestiary** : And DV, frankly, you began the hostilities today.

 

By the time VandalHeart returns, the loading bar has finished, with an equally ominous message and another poorly drawn ASCII spirograph.

 

Awaiting circumstantially simultaneous client pair..._

 

What the hell does that even mean?

 

**VandalHeart** : If you start fighting again, I'll be seriously mad.

**DiracBestiary** : Everything all right, VH?

**VandalHeart** : There's a strange message on the console. Something about waiting for a client, I think.

**VengefulBirddog** : OK. Fine. We might need to make a slight change to the order. OR NOT. As long as everyone gets IN i'm sure we'll be fine.

**VandalHeart** : Everything is fine here.

**BravadoDenied** : I'm fine with whatever order, as long as we start this game

**VandalHeart** : VB, you're giving me cause for concern! Please explain yourself.

 

In the distance, HourglassDistance's hair stands on end. For what reason, she may not know until the opportunity presents itself.

A sudden, inexplicable case of the goosepimples.

DiracBestiary attempts to open the server executable as well.

 

CANNOT OPEN SERVER CONNECTION UNTIL CLIENT CONNECTION ESTABLISHED

 

**DiracBestiary** : That's good, VH. VB, do you know who or what the server player is supposed to be? Who's hosting?   
**DeductiveVanguard** : I poked simple fun, you're the one who took it further than that.¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**BravadoDenied** : Just some banter ey

 

BravadoDenied checks to make sure that his dog, Hades’ bowl is full

VengefulBirddog begins to type a frustrated response back, but deletes his text. No time for fights. No time for screaming. He Ignores the girl’s worries. She'll be safe when she gets in the game. Hopefully.

**VengefulBirddog** : You'll figure it out man. Just keep playing.   
**DiracBestiary** : DV, if you cannot handle the bantz, you should refrain from lowering the general IQ of the population. At any rate, VB, VH and my executables appear to be stuck. How do we make them connect?

**HourglassDistance** : I just got a real bad feeling

**DiracBestiary** : Sorry, HD. I'll stop responding to DV's bait.

**BravadoDenied** : What's the issue with the exes?

**VengefulBirddog** : Shit it's hard to explain. It's like a loop? You connect to her, she connects to someone else, and the last person connection to you. Does that make any sense?

**BravadoDenied** : That shit's... CYCLICAL

**HourglassDistance** : That shit's SPHERICAL

**DiracBestiary** : Oh this is just Hoard again, is it? Well, VH's doesn't seem to be connecting.

**VengefulBirddog** : SURE! Just please god figure it out!

**HourglassDistance** : Play nice, Bravado

**HourglassDistance** : I mean Birddog

**BravadoDenied** : I am the nicest

**VandaHeart** : It's saying something about time. Maybe our system time has to be synchronized? It doesn't really make sense, though.

**HourglassDistance** : Well the people I'm "next to" in order aren’t launched yet so I don't think I can do anything

 

At last.

The client.exe starts for a moment, and then almost immediately crashes to desktop, overridden by the server exe..

A loading bar zooms by, the words  Establishing Connection arise, and after a small, unelegant loading screen…

 

**DiracBestiary** : I will not be constrained by an established order.

**DiracBestiary** : Oh! It seems to be doing something. Hang on.

 

And now, rather suddenly, BravadoDenied can see someone on his screen. In their room, from a semi-birds-eye view.

BravadoDenied sets up his recording software. He told his fans he was going to stream this game, and stream it he will.

 

**BravadoDenied** : Almost forgot. Gotta give the lads something to watch, eh?

**BravadoDenied** : Oh what's this...?

**VengefulBirddog** : What's WHAT! Come on buddy. INFO INFO!

**HourglassDistance** : What's on your screen??

 

A person, in their room, in what looks to be Russia.

And a UI, to boot!

On DiracBestiary’s end, all that is seen is  Server connection established!

 

**DiracBestiary** : It says a server connection's been established! Now we are getting somewhere.

 

Then, the client executable crashes to desktop.

 

**BravadoDenied** : Trying to live stream, you can watch, but looks like I'm lookin at some jabroni in their room, and I got some kinda game running around it…

**HourglassDistance** : Woo!

**DiracBestiary** : And it crashed…

**HourglassDistance** : Aw :(

**VengefulBirddog** : OK OK. THIS IS FINE! BD you are client, say hello to DB. Move an object so he knows you're there.

 

On closer inspection, it seems that the client file has disappeared entirely from DiracBestiary's download folder. And computer.

BravadoDenied turns on his microphone as he tests out the connection between running this and streaming it. He says;  “Gonna start now, hello DB, I'm going to... Move something here... Eh, that lamp.”

 

**HourglassDistance** : Is there an ingame chat to say hello in?

**BravadoDenied** : Don't see no in game chat.

In DiracBestiary's room, a lamp suddenly lifts itself off the ground.

Or the table, as it were.

Held there by a very visible, very obvious, arrow-shaped cursor

DiracBestiary's seated at a computer desk littered with Demonus figures, both official and fan made, from garage kits to expensive statues. On the opposite of the desk is a reclined futon with varying  _ Dragon's _ wall scrolls painting the wall. Various robotics parts cover the floor alongside several open computer cases; in the corner BravadoDenied can make out what looks like a kitchen.

[ https://youtu.be/2RXMevfxCPg ](https://youtu.be/2RXMevfxCPg)

DiracBestiary, wearing their characteristic horned cap, snaps their head up at the sudden intrusion of their desk lamp. They blink, wipe their glasses, and stare again.

 

**DiracBestiary** : I think I may have food poisoning.

**HourglassDistance** : Oh no!! What makes you think that?? 

**BravadoDenied** : Got a fookin kitchen in yer room? Lucky lucky! Lemme go raid ya fridge, real quick like, real quick…

 

BravadoDenied tries to fiddle around in the kitchen part of the room. The fridge, unfortunately, cannot be interacted with beyond simple lifting, rotating, and moving. However, it does get ripped out of the wall. Along with its power cord. 

 

**DeductiveVanguard** : Oh no… DB can't play today… damn…

**DiracBestiary** : I appear to be hallucinating a giant mouse corner in my room.

 

The cursor is shaped vaguely like a house, and is a bright, luminescent, bubblegum pink. It's split into 6 chunks, with one of the chunks having a smaller, rotating chunk cut around in it.

 

**VengefulBirddog** : YES! YES! NOW WE GETTING SOMEWHERE! 

**HourglassDistance** : Our friend haluinatin is good to ya?!? 

**DiracBestiary** : ...excuse me? Wait, can BD see me? Is this some sort of conspiracy to intrude on my anonymity!? 

**DeductiveVanguard** : Uh hello? What's this game, VB?

**DiracBestiary** : STOP STREAMING RIGHT NOW

**DeductiveVanguard** : >The Jabroni on BD's screen is DB kek

**VandalHeart** : VB, explain right now! Did you just dox DB on purpose????! 

**VengefulBirddog** : YES HE CAN SEE YOU! HE IS IN CONTROL OF YOUR HOUSE!  THIS IS HOW THE GAME IS PLAYED! 

**HourglassDistance** : YOU DOXXD HIM!?! AND YOU ALLOWED IT?!?

**DeductiveVanguard** : How the fuck????

**BravadoDenied** : Dunno if ya'll can see this shit, but I'm live on my yt. Shit is bananas, totally crazy, watch this

 

BravadoDenied starts rotating the fridge around at a slow pace.

 

**HourglassDistance** : I'm sorry this is _what_?!?!

**DeductiveVanguard** : >VB turns to be out a sorceror who's tricked us for years to play games with us Anybody here surprised?

 

DiracBestiary leaps onto the chair and pulls their hat over their face, obscuring their visage, while they grab a massive Demonus statue and brandish it at the floating fridge. How did it go again in  _ Mother 2 _ [SNES, 1994]?

 

**BravadoDenied** : Stuck on DB having a kitchen in their room, mate

**HourglassDistance** : Birddog, you're going to tell us what's going on right now!!

**VengefulBirddog** : OK BD SEE THE UI? YOU NEED TO START SETTING UP SO HE CAN ENTER THE GAME!

**BravadoDenied** : Aye lad, ya got it

 

BravadoDenied fucks with the UI and starts dragging and dropping shit like a madlad, with minimal regard to the person in the room.

 

**DiracBestiary** : STOP STREAMING OR NO GOD WILL HELP YOU WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU

**VandalHeart** : BD, you can't stream this! You're violating DB's privacy! VB why did you distribute this kind of malware!? I swear I'll ban you if you don't give me a good explanation!   
  


A moment of pause.

**DiracBestiary** : STOP THAT'S NOT MY STUFF

In Europe, HourglassDistance  feels goosebumps.

**BravadoDenied** : JUST FOLLOWIN ORDERS, YA KNOW?

She leans back in her chair, just as the clouds above her hometown part.

**DiracBestiary** : PUT THE FRIDGE BACK!  


The moon.

**HourglassDistance** : Hey remeber tha bad feelin I had? Is only getting worse!!!

Is close.

**VengefulBirddog** : DON’T WORRY ABOUT THE STREAM! ANYONE WATCHING THAT STREAM IS DEAD ANYWAY! JUST. FOCUS!

Far closer than it should be.

**HourglassDistance** : Dead?!?

(It is then she realizes that her hair has begun to slowly float upwards, and has been for the past 20 minutes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews give us LIFE so please leave some below and tell us how you liked the first Actual Chapter! Also, I'm switching to a daily update schedule instead of an alternating one. Just can't stay away form thins thing, lol.  
> EDIT: I know some characters don't have the right fonts. I've tried fixing it to no avail, but TT should be on that soon. Hope it didn't take away too much! It should be fixed by the time the next chapter comes out.


	4. Character Introduction: diracBestiary

Your name is DYEVET O. DOVEKOV  
Though this is not necessarily your legal name, you have made the DECISION to call yourself that because, akin to the protagonists of the most important games in the DRAGON'S series, directed by the master, Sato Rei-sama, you have named yourself after a NUMBER. Indeed, like NUMBERS, FACTS, and COLD-HARD GAME DATA harvested from disemboweled code dumps, you prefer your UNBIASED ANALYTICAL PERSPECTIVE of logic and reason to paltry subjectivities such as emotions or feelings. WHO YOU ARE does not matter, only WHAT YOU DO. Ergo, until you are OBSERVED, your IDENTITY, like your GENDER, is Schródinger's. You have a nearly primal need to TAKE EVERYTHING APART so that you can learn how to rebuild and therefore UNDERSTAND IT ENOUGH TO TINKER. You do not play games of chance; rather, you mitigate the RISK OF DISASTER through careful forethought and planning. Your love of challenging puzzles even if no puzzle ostensibly exists, engaging debate even when no one has asked for your opinion, and other INTELLECTUAL JAPERY lands in trouble more often than not, but your QUICK WITS and DEADLY DRGNWFUKIND have led you from worst scrapes before.

Of course, while the OFFLINE MEATSPACE can never hope to compare to the pristine beauty of FICTIONAL CHOICES, you nonetheless appear EXTROVERTED and EAGER in your friendly pesters. Nothing interests you more than a MORAL QUANDARY that COMPELS A CHOICE, whether trolley-propelled or otherwise. And the world is so FULL OF FINITE CHOICES that you cannot help but be CHEERY and OPTIMISTIC: you have the ultimate FREE WILL to determine your own course, so as long as you're clever and your mind is in the right place, you'll find your path through.

In addition to an almost PERVERSE INTEREST IN QUANTUM PHYSICS and BEWITCHING HUNGER TO TINKER WITH THE MAKE-UP OF THE UNIVERSE, you code in DIS* for the ethical puzzles that mitigating disasters provides and likewise have some knowledge of ROBOTICS. You peruse your CAREFULLY HIDDEN SCALEAFFINITY ACCOUNT in your free time. When not writing LORE THEORIES, you practise your MEDIOCRE SAXOPHONE PLAYING and BIRD-AND-REPTILE-WATCHING. Your MODERATELY SUCCESSFUL WEBCOMIC is a thinly veiled self-insert of yourself and your dear wife. When not drawing or coding, you are a sizable nerd and VIDEO GAMES ADDICT, and your favourite game is the controversial DRAGON'S OBLIVION: DECISIVE, where you hold the THIRD WORLD RECORD in the Any% Glitch Speedrun. You are seldom seen without your trademark HORNED HAT and TAILED TRUNKS, alongside the COOLEST TRENCHCOAT you have ever worn.

No person and no rule can tell you what to do, except of course for your dear WIFE, DEMONUS, the ULTIMATE BEST GIRL with TWO ALLURING HORNS and the DRAGON THAT SWALLOWED THE WORLD.

The ENTIRE WORLD FALLING TO OBLIVION is certainly an interesting way to spend your EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY, but grieving is for the FAINT OF HEART. Now you have STEELED YOUR MIND and look futureward, to a WORLD BECKONING WITH TANTALISING CODE WITH WHICH TO TINKER that hopefully presents itself with many a MORAL CHOICE.

Your forumoniker is diracBestiary, and you **tend to** **type with proper grammar and punctuation, occasionally throwing in a reference as sick as Lucian Taylor's sister [Wachenröder, Saturn, 1998].**


	5. Chapter Two: The first to get stuff done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter took longer than expected! There were some issues with the custom workskin that needed to be fixed before this chapter could be posted. We should now go back to our regular daily schedule! I've got two more sessions and a whole boatload of gaidens to transcribe, so don't expect the content to stop any time soon!

HourglassDistance runs a finger through her floating hair

**HourgassDistance** : HEY CA ANYONE LOOK OUSSIDE RIGH NOW???

**HourglaasDistance** : DO YOU SEE THE MOON?!?!?!

**BravadoDenied** : Yo DB, oh shit hol up

DiracBestiary/Dyevet squats over their keyboard with the statue under their arm, the ceramic spines poking into their stomach while they type without looking at the keyboard, their gaze focused on the pink son of a bitch thrashing their life.

**DiracBestiary** : THIS IS WHY I ASKED VH TO HOST! BD I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T STOP STRE what's wrong HD? The moon?

BravadoDenied looks outside with a cursory glance

**VandalHeart** : Close the program and delete the recording, BD.

For VandalHeart  and DuductiveVanguard the moon is in its normal place in the sky.

But for VengefulBirddog , BravadoDenied, and DiracBestiary, they can see, along with the moon, what appears to be a massive, rocky body. Almost hanging in the air obscenely so, as if dangling on a spider's thread.

A planet killer, for sure.

**DeductiveVanguard** : Wow VB is literally an evil wizard confirmed. Top Kek. Well I'm fine with dying like this.

**Hourglassdistance** : Its close! Realy close! I'm big on astrology I know where the moon should be!!!

**HourglassDistance** : Or am I halusinatin?

**HourglassDistance** : Maybe theyre startin to come with the dissasociatin?

 

For Dyevet, VengefulBirddog, and BravadoDenied, it looks quite small compared to the distances involved, but it is still noticeably larger than a city.

Still visible in the sky, which nothing should be at that distance.

At his window, BravadoDenied rubs his chin and cocks a brow at the FUCKING MOON falling.

**DiracBestiary** : No, I see it too, HD. You're not crazy. You never are. It's not the moon, though. It's something else in the sky.

**VengefulBirddog** : DON'T FREAK OUT! IT'S VERY REAL AND IT WILL KILL YOU!

**HourglassDistance** : The not-moon is going to kill me?!?

**VandalHeart** : This isn’t funny! Stop it!

**DiracBeatiary** : The master Sato-sama really was a genius. Haha. Wow. The world is ending.

**VengefulBirddog** : JUST! Just sit tight HD .

**HourglassDistance** : Bestiary youre great bu now is no the time

BravadoDenied takes a seat back at his computer, turns around, looks at it “the moon” once more, then after a pause, resumes gameplay

**BravadoDenied** : So, world's ending, but more important question, DB, I need an empty area in your house to put these giant machines...

**VengefulBirddog** : DB. BD. How are things going?

**BravadoDenied** : Solid 6/10 here chief

The concern has gone to a shock so gripping that the reach around leaves them icily calm. Dyevet gives the Demonus statue a quick kiss before they set it down on the table.

**DiracBestiary** : One out of five hats.

**DiracBestiary** : The moon won't kill us if I have anything to say about it. I'll clear some floor space.

**VengefulBirddog** : Good. Find space. If you can't find it make it.

**DiracBestiary** : I finally found a game worse than DCO.

Already, Dyevet's room is a bit of a mess from BD's finagling, but nothing that can't be repaired with some elbow grease.

Nothing has been literally ripped out of the drywall. Just mussed.

They captchalogue the computer parts and such over the floor until they've managed to clear out a good chunk of space between the futon in their “room”- the living room- and the front door. Sorting through all of that later will be the death of them, or rather, their items.

**BravadoDenied** : There we go fam, Imma... Eh... Yeah, put this... In the corner, and that... Next to it, fuck ya room's crowded mate

Ka-Thunk.

A large, tall object makes its way onto the floor, helpfully labeled a "Cruxtruder" by the game. Something is poking against its lid, and the round crank on it seems stuck.

**BravadoDenied** : Yeet

**DiracBestiary** : Just don't break the kitchen implements which isn't mine OR any of my wife's things or I really will kill you I swear on her honour.

**DiracBestiary** : What is this?

Unfortunately for both of them, the game doesn't come with an instruction manual.

Just labels, and VengefulBirddog.

**BravadoDenied** : No FOOKIN idea, go fuck with it!

**HourglassDistance** ...Almost asked "you have a wife?"

**BravadoDenied** : Glad I wasn't the first

**DiracBestiary** : I-I meant my Dragon's merchandise. It was a typo.

**VengefulBirddog** : Progress reports please.

On further inspection, a small countdown on the cruxtruder.

**BravadoDenied** has uploaded SCREENCAP2224.PNG

One hour, sixty-seven minutes?

Whatever.

**BravadoDenied** : There ya go

Despite the time not making sense, the clock ticks down nonetheless.

**VengefulBirddog** : POP THE TOP

**HourglassDistance** : My rooms been worse.

**BravadoDenied** : As you gents and ladies and other good folk can see: This game is one spicy fookin mess

**HourglassDistance** : Spicy. Messy.

**BravadoDenied** : Uno Delicio

**VengefulBirddog** : The top of the Crux! Once you do a thing will come out!

Dyevet stares at the timer. With a glance at the screen, they proceed to attempt "popping the top" via the handcrank. Their hat wobbles in their exertion.

**VandaHeart** : I don't understand any of th is.

**HourglassDistance** : Same ‘ere

**DiracBestiary** : The crank seems stuck. Oh, the top? Forgive me for assuming basic construction. As long as BD stops swinging things wildly around so I can stop panicking, I'll be able to think clearly through this.

**BravadoDenied** : You ain't see wild at all mate, but go off, go ahead, get that bread

Dyevet cautiously inspects the Cruxtruder, specifically the top, from all sides to determine the best way of opening it.  There's just enough headroom for BD to lift something heavy up and drop it, should he so desire.  Except the fridge. Just a bit too wide, that one.

**VandalHeart** : BD, you dont' need to type like you talk on-stream, you know...

**BravadoDenied** : I don't need to do anything

**_BravadoDenied_ ** _ uploaded DamienSunglasses.png _

Then he grabs the dowel thing

**BravadoDenied** : But I do it anyway!

**HourglassDistance** : was wrong weth speech typen?

**BravadoDenied** : aye, DB, I got you this... Rock thing. Looks pretty

**DiracBestiary** : Rock thing?

**VengefulBirddog** : Drop it on the cork looking thing of the Crux

**DiracBestiary** : Is it a Gem of Decision? I really must have food poisoning.

**HourgassDistance** : Oh, I see it on his stream!!

**DiracBestiary** : Wait HD you're watching this!?

A bop on the top produces the intended result. The lid flies free, and with it, a small, green-and-white fairy. Or, rather, a glowing green and white seizure orb about the size of Dyevet's head.

**VengefulBirddog** : YES!

Then, a dark green dowel of some smooth, unknown design.

**VengefulBirddog** : YEEEESSSSSSSSS

**HourglassDistance** : I have the stream oepn in another window, chekin sporadily

**DiracBestiary** : aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I didn't even clean up my room!

Watching the stream, HourglassDistance hears BravadoDenied ranting about the cyclical nature of  _ hoard  _ some more, but mostly him debating running to get some soda. She watches Dyevet hide their face further under their hat and buttons their overly-large trenchcoat over their front like a cocoon of loosely fitting clothing. The crafted dragon's tail poking out from a hole in the coat has never felt heavier to Dyevet than it does now.

**VengefulBirddog** : OK. BD be a lad and drop in the totem lathe.

**BravadoDenied** : In the... Lathe, ya sure. DB, make sure ya can see through that duster, aye?

BravadoDenied drops the dowel into the lathe. The dowel bounces crudely out of place, unused to being handled by a computer mouse. The lathe, as well, seems un-activated. It seems there is still the issue of what will be carved, to be considered.

**VengefulBirddog** : GOD DAMN IT

Panicking, Dyevet springs across the desk, banging their knee on the corner, to grab the bouncing-off dowel before it can knock into any of the Demonus merchandise.

_ BravadoDenied stares at the acrobatics and mutters, "Priorities at least, amirite." _

**BravadoDenied** : Nice moves

On VandalHeart's screen, the flashing server indicator remains unconnected. VandalHeart fights the temptation to open the stream. She looks away from her computer, annoyed by the whole scenario. It seems like nobody's interested in keeping her in the loop, so she may as well leave. She could be having breakfast downstairs.

**VengefulBirddog** : Uhhhhh. Bestiary, captchalouge the dowel

**DiracBestiary** : Oh no.

Hesitantly, they capchalog it.

**DiracBestiary** : What now? If trolley modus puts it against something vital to me, the dowel is being destroyed, VB.

**BravadoDenied** : Captchaloguing it's worth a shot, ey?

**HourglassDistance** : Hey, Heart, Vanguard, you two still ere?

**VengefulBirddog** : Get the prepunched card. Insert, then put in the Dowel.

**VengefulBirddog** : Maybe. I think.

**DiracBestiary** : Oh, just like riding the metro, is it?

On the phernalia registry on BD's screen, a visible image of a card, with rectangles punched out of it. The detail is small, but visible to BD's screen. A small replica of a dragon figurine, a claw hammer, and a clock.

**BravadoDenied** : Who the fuck deals with captchalogues in 2019 anyway, who made this some IBM programmer from the 90s

**VengefulBirddog** : We do buddy. We do.

Now get FUCKING MOVING! 

**BravadoDenied** : DB, Is that slot in that fuckhuge machine for the card?

After the card is deployed, the image visible behind punched-out rectangles, it does indeed appear to fit comfortably in the slot in the totem lathe.

**DiracBestiary** : It looks like it. I think you can do whatever you needed to do with the lathe and dowel now.

_ BravadoDenied slams that shit into the slot it fits in _ _. _

Several spikes emerge from the lathe. It starts up, and carves the dowel into a curvy shape.

Step, done.

**BravadoDenied** : fookin noice

**DiracBestiary** : Well, it's not a Gem of Decision. It does have a rather appealing shape, however.

**DiracBestiary** : What do we do now, VB? I am quite curiosity on how you know all of this, anyways, but we can handle that later.

**DiracBestiary** : definitely got some nice curves, ya, so, what to do with this hunk

**VengefulBirddog** : Ok. Give me a second!

BravadoDenied zooms in on the various dragon statues and ogles them.

**BravadoDenied** : Take yer time, lad

**VengefulBirddog** : Now go back to your inventory and captchalogue the carved totem. Go back to the SBURB Client and scan the Cruxite totem using the alchemiter menu at the bottom.

**BravadoDenied** : uh, yeah, got it

BravadoDenied clicks the Alchemiter menu, but, when clicked, produces only a list of empty cards. The physical Alchemiter dumped unwittingly into Dyevet's home broodingly menaces the room with its presence. 

The clock on the Cruxtruder hits 1 hour and 45 minutes.

And captchaloguing the carved dowel seems to have provided nothing at all.

**BravadoDenied** : fuck me

**DiracBestiary** : All right. And BD, stop perving on Demonus. She's not for you.

They run their hand on the totem's curved sides before seemingly remembering that they're on stream and immediately shifting their grip to hold it as one might a bottle. 

**DiracBestiary** : I'm going to try the other machine. My pattern recognition suggests that there appears a spot just right for setting the totem into, so I will...place it there.

**BravadoDenied** : don't worry mate, I ain't gonna cuck ya outta yer dragon waifu</span>  


An arm unfurls from the alchemiter, scans the carved totem, and at the push of a button, produces two CRUXITE ARTIFACTS. Within a cage, there is:

A perfectly accurate, if monochrome-green, DEMONUS STATUETTE.

A monochrome-green CLAW HAMMER.

**BravadoDenied** : Aw shit son, we cookin now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review our session, plsnthnks


	6. Charater introduction: vengefulBirddog

Your name is ARNETT C. DENZELL  
  
It's a perfectly fine name, and suits your purposes quite nicely, unlike many other things in the CHAOTIC FUGUE you call your life. You are very quick to ANGER, but have been trained most of your short lifetime to BURY YOUR FRUSTRATIONS under a layer of politeness and formality. This isn't to say that you are any good a communicating with others without falling into a BLIND RAGE, but this also isn't to say you couldn't be MUCH WORSE. You are actually very SOFT-SPOKEN, only able to use your deep voice to BELLOW PLEASANTRIES. You instead abuse the power of anonymity on the internet to project your SMOLDERING AGGRESSION. You are very DISTRUSTFUL of most things and people, but have ALMOST COMPLETE FAITH in your own ability to spot the bullshit around you. You have very little spare time to spend on your rather small list of INTERESTS. You instead spend most of your time TRACKING DOWN TARGETS with your Auntie as a part of her HEADHUNTING business.  
  
When you do find yourself in your INFURIATINGLY SMALL dwelling however, you are either HONING YOUR LARGE FRAME INTO A WEAPON by WORKING OUT and practicing with your TRUSTY STAFF, or doing INTENSIVE RESEARCH on a variety of matters. You also find yourself SPITEFULY PERFORMING HOUSEKEEPING DUTIES, as your home gets messy easily and you DESPISE clutter unless you personally are the direct cause. You dabble in Robotics and A.I programming, but you are MEDIOCRE at best. You usually rely on premade code from external sources and TWEAK them to suit your needs. You have a bad habit of SINGING LIKE A DAMN DISNEY PRINCESS whenever you get too intensely focused on one particular thing. This is an embarrassing habit derived from your secret love for MUSICALS AND MUSICAL THEATER. You have a profound and often very worrying appreciation for CUTE GIRLS, but have no way of expressing this wholesome appreciation for the FEMALE FORM without sounding like a COMPLETE PSYCHOPATH. You like to shitpost on the forum of the DRAGON'S series, primarily about your favorite game DRAGON'S BROOD: VENUSIAN, both are things you have ANALYZED EXCESSIVELY. These shitposts usually take the form of WORDY PUT DOWNS of other people's ridiculous fan theories and misconceptions. You do not have the EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE to create your own theories however, which UPSETS you more than you think it should.  
  
You are very eager for an opportunity to unwind and let out all of your PENT UP AGGRESSION, but are unsure if the shaken bottle of your psyche can handle being recorked after POPPING OFF.  
  
You haved prepared as much as you could for DOOMSDAY, AND THE MANY TRIALS THAT WILL SOON FOLLOW. Failure is not an option, and you are DETERMINED to drag your friends through the finish line, no matter how UTTERLY LIVID babysitting makes you.  
  
Your forumoniker is vengefulBirddog, and you tend to type based on your ever shifting mood. GRAMMAR AND PUNCTUATION BE DAMNED! Spelling HOWEVER. Is a must have.


End file.
